Open ♫ if you sneeze, a butterfly in a forest somewhere will dance

[fairysong]

Who: Sheryl Nome and anyone else! Including you. Especially you.
Where: All through the temple.
When: Arrival / sickness event
Rating PG13+, warning for mild nudity
What: Sheryl ain't down with the sickness.

[Week One:]

[It's silly to be worried about this. Sheryl knows that. She knows that her V-Type Infection had progressed to a stage where the symptoms were completely different from this; even if Ranka hadn't cured her, a resurgence would feel completely differently. And everyone else is sick, too. This can't be the disease that nearly killed her.

A part of her brain is completely ignoring all that logic and reason, though. These symptoms are like what she'd first felt, after all. And there's that tiny nagging voice that she can't banish, constantly asking her: What if? What if Ranka had just delayed her death? What if everyone else has one thing, but she has another?

It's a stupid, irrational thought, and she can't banish it. So Sheryl deals with the deep-seated panic the best way she knows how: She throws herself into her music.

The only trouble is that this lingering headache and stuffiness makes it so very hard to write lyrics. So you'll find a young woman sitting at a table in the kitchen with a pencil and a torn sheet of paper that's full of scribbled out words. Most of them are crossed out. Sheryl is looking very frustrated-- and then she turns, pointing the end of the pencil at you.] You!

...what rhymes with "forest"?

[Week Two:]

[It got worse. It got much worse.

The good news is that Sheryl is now fairly certain that this isn't her V-Type Infection coming back; the symptoms have progressed in a completely different way.

That's the only good news. Sheryl feels like shit. She hasn't experienced the hallucinations that she's heard other people dealing with, which she's thankful for, but a violent fever and everything else that comes with it isn't much better.

The worst is that she constantly feels like she's just burning up, across her entire body, and since the bathing area is communal here, she hasn't figured out how to take a cold shower or bath to try and counteract it. Still, she's a resourceful young woman.

In the hallways just outside of the bathing area, you'll come across Sheryl with a rolled-up wet towel draped around her neck and over her shoulders. Though the towel hangs down in front of her chest, it is very clear that she is not wearing a shirt. Still, any potential sexiness is blunted by the fact that Sheryl looks rough and completely exhausted.

She's just too drained to give a shit about this right now. She does glance in your direction, though, and speaks in a slow voice that sounds impossibly tired.]

Can't a girl get some privacy around here...?

[Week Three:]

[Again, there's good news and there's bad news. The good news is that she feels much, much better than before. No fever, no chills, no cold sweats, no trembling.

The bad news is that she can't see.

In a place where she still doesn't know anybody that well, she's reluctant to ask someone for help like she might someone she trusts, like Alto or Ranka. Which means Sheryl is moving slowly around the temple, one hand on the walls at all time, dark glasses on even in the middle of the night.

At some point leaving the kitchen area, you might hear a girl's voice yelp in pain. If you investigate, you'll find Sheryl doubled over, rubbing at one of her shins and hissing obscenities through her teeth.

When she hears footsteps, she straightens up abruptly.] Ah... someone must've moved that chair, I don't think it was there before!

[It's an odd excuse, mainly because she'd just run into a bench, and you're pretty sure the bench has always been there that whole time. Also, she's not looking directly at you, but also a little off to the side.

A little suspicious.]

Comments

Week 2

[lumberlady]

[Jinba can't get sick from humans. At least, that's what Konoha has always thought. After all, as human as part of her looked they were still different species, and she'd never gotten sick when her adopted parents had... only when she'd been around others of her kind. So she's worried for everyone else, more than happy to take on a share of caring for them with the androids among them... but now in the second week, she's starting to feel... a bit tired. A bit hot. Nothing alarming yet, but.

But.

There's a half naked woman sitting out in public by the baths.]

Oh my gosh- !

[Konoha immediately spins back in a flurry of hooves to make sure there's no men coming down the hall, quick to sort of.. maneuver her large body in front of the woman to try and block her from view if they do, transferring the towels in her hands to tucked under an arm so that she can lean down and speak to her, maybe check her temperature if she needs to. Surely no one would be out here like this on purpose, she might have passed out or something before and was recovering-]

Do you need help? Come on, let's go inside to the women's baths, you shouldn't stay out here like this- !

[fairysong]

[The sound of hooves on tile is definitely enough to wake Sheryl from her half-conscious daze. She raises her eyebrows just slightly at seeing this woman-horse, but honestly, her reaction is pretty... blase. She's friends with 50-foot-tall women, so why can't this girl just be another weird alien race?]

My, aren't you a big one... [she murmurs, sitting up a little bit straighter.]

It's too hot in there. I felt like I was going to burn up. It's much breezier out here, don't you think? [Sheryl says, slowly, her tone still altogether tired.]

[lumberlady]

[Well, she can't say she isn't big. Still!]

Do you have a fever?

[Hands wringing a bit in worry, having seen some of the other sicker members already, Konoha can't help but lean closer, blushing a bit at the idea of a woman walking around so brazenly in a public space. Of course amongst other women it was fine, but!]

You're new here, aren't you? There's a cooler pool in the back, do you want me to show you... ?

one.

[godcards]

[ Also feeling quite sickish and miserable is Malik, but he's not here to kill time. No, instead he's here to steal onions, because that's apparently what one does in the kitchen - or not, since there's a witness and she is also pointing directly at him.

He hesitates, not sure if he wants to play this little game. ]

...Horus.

[ Guess he does. ]

[fairysong]

Horus... Horus. [Sheryl murmurs to herself, turning to her paper.] "Eye of Horus"? No, that won't work. What else did Horus have? He's a god from old Earth, isn't he...? [It's spoken aloud, but clearly directed more at herself. Then she shakes her head.]

No, that won't work.

week 1

[resistivity]

( when team avatar consists of korra, his brother, naga and pabu, it's sort of obvious which of them are going to cook. mako is the only one that can do more than light a fish on fire and call it a meal, so he's the de facto team chef. as a result, he gets intimately acquainted with the kitchen at a sundry variety of hours. bolin, as he claims, sheryl's presence gets an acknowledging nod, but he's not actually here to talk to anyone.

he's halfway through (very gingerly, seeing as how he only has the use of one hand at the moment) mincing up something that looks like a passable shallot when she speaks up. he doesn't respond right away, to the point where he may have just ignored her. finally, at length, )

I guess maybe... 'florist'?

( he's not much for imagination. bo probably would have unfurled a list of words by now. not all of them actual... legitimate words, but still. )

Re: week 1

[fairysong]

"Florist?"

You know, I think that might actually work. Flower imagery... yes, I can work with that. Good.

[She says, mostly to herself. Partly to him.]

one

[besieging]

[ Ephraim was not expecting to be interrogated on rhyming words when he entered the kitchen. He's just here for a snack.

But he's generally more inclined to be helpful than not, so he stops, and thinks, and gives it his best. His best, honestly, isn't that great for this kind of thing. Anything involving words and books was always more in Lyon's wheelhouse, but he can remember making a sad, abortive attempt to read some poetry that his friend liked once. There were definitely trees in those. And probably forests, if he could only remember what was in the line after them. ]

Chorused?

[fairysong]

Chorused, huh... [Sheryl turns back to her sheet of paper, tapping the pencil against her lip.] Maybe.

Voices chorused... sounds chorused... animals chorused... hmm...

I'll have to think about that one. It could work.

week one

[bleps]

Tourist.

[The reply is immediate and rapid-fire, Connor stopping mid-step when the young woman focuses on him, having interpreted the rather sudden question as a command to reply on habit alone.

A glance down at the paper, the scratched out words. Writing, working— poetry? The possibilities flicker and shine through the LED at his temple, but he doesn’t say anything else, waiting for her reply first.]

[fairysong]

Tourist... [She hums thoughtfully, tapping the tip of the pencil's eraser against her mouth.] A tourist in a fantastic temple, trapped and longing for home...

I think that could work. That's good.

[She begins scribbling again, words flowing from the tip of her pencil.]

week one

[yerawitchakko]

[Akko's doing her level best to get used to life here. She, mercifully, hasn't gotten sick yet. (That comes later.)

Akko is walking along, carrying a stack of books that she ostensibly is going to read and is really going to use to maker her desk look smarter. She has them in hand, and like teacher, like student: she yelps when Sheryl calls out "You!" and then throws them up into the air.

Then catches them with some surprisingly quick moves, but somehow ends up precariously balancing them.

Wobble, wobble.

But she feels compelled to answer. She turns her head to the side, looks at Sheryl -- and then blinks, before:]

...door-est? Like, um, more... door than usual...?

[fairysong]

[The motion is... almost impressive, honestly. She's got good reflexes.

Her rhyming, though, could use a little work. Sheryl frowns.] No. That isn't even a word. I'm not writing a comedy, here.

[A sigh. Turning back to her page.] Forest, forest...

week three

[activatingcombatmode]

[By the third week Zack has been able to avoid most of the sickness and that is probably thanks to the fact that Zack is more or less as healthy as a horse in its prime. But he didn't get through most of the month scot-free either. He's had his fair share of aches and nasal congestion and coughing just like everyone else.

He's in the kitchens that night looking for something to drink, preferably something with a ton of vitamin c in it. That's when he hears the clatter and yelping. Curious he goes to investigate.]

You alright? Probably should be careful about wandering around at night with stray benches around that could attack you.

[There's a lighthearted note to his tone as he goes to offer to help her up with a hand.]

Here, I got you.

[fairysong]

Yes, yes, I'm fine, I'm just-- fine-- [She says, though the fact that she's hissing through gritted teeth kind of gives away that she's really banged up her shin.] That'll probably leave a bruise, though...

[Sheryl glances up at the sound of the voice, whoever's talking to her, though again, she's not quite looking directly at him.

She also doesn't react to his outstretched hand at all.] Bench, chair, whatever. It's the same thing. [She's going to try to climb to her feet now. It sure does look like she'd just given his hand the cold shoulder.]

Week One

[cakebuffet]

[Ann is among the many who have been feeling under the weather, but today happens to be one where she doesn't mind the chance to be up around around— she keeps trying to convince herself that it's just a cold, that it's nothing to worry about, that there's nothing weird about the fact that almost everyone caught it all at once. So far, she's been met with minimal success on that front, but given that she's feeling well enough to be up on her feet and to actually eat something, she's decided to momentarily distract herself with some of the curry that's been left out by a 'mystery chef' around lunchtime each day this week— something she'll have to remember to thank Akira for later.

It's here that Ann finds herself on the spot as Sheryl seeks help with lyrics, and for a moment she freezes in place, dish in both hands as she looks over her shoulder just to make sure the other girl isn't talking to someone else.]

Uh—

[Improvising is not her strong suit.]

'Morest?' No, wait, that's stupid, don't use that. There's 'poorest'...

[fairysong]

[Sheryl remains there with pencil pointed at Ann. "Morest" gets a very skeptical Look from her, as if she's mentally saying: "...really?"

"Poorest," on the other hand, has her pause, tapping the tip of the pencil on her lips.] Poorest...

That might work. I think I can use that.

[Not gonna say thank you or anything, sorry. She's just going to get back to her writing.]

week 1

[eccitato]

[ It's Leo's time to shine.

He pauses from where he'd come in to get Sena something to drink, his grey mackerel tabby slung over his shoulder. She chirps as he stops, blinking at the woman that's suddenly addressed him, but he doesn't miss a beat. While he's not the lyricist in the group - or even in the family, and god does his heart ache and miss his baby sister - he's still used to weaving compositions together with imagery in mind. ]

Ahhh... chorist, chorused, florist, dearest. [ Hm~m. ] Trust, artist, finest, highest... sweetest, deepest, earnest, promised, witnessed... it just has to have the same mouth feel, doesn't it? Ne, what're you writing?

[fairysong]

[That was

not the reaction she was expecting, and it's visible in her expression; she looks at him, eyes widening just a little in surprise.

Then she leans back, tapping the eraser of the pencil against her lips.] You're not bad at this. I can work with some of those.

And I'm writing a song. Lyrics are easier for me to start with than the melody, usually. It passes the time.

week two!

[runwaying]

[ they're all trying their best, to be honest.

if sheryl looks like death, then arashi has the dubious definition of looking a little less like death, because in contrast to the rough, unkempt look that sheryl is going for, arashi still looks relatively put together.

also, to her credit, arashi absolutely is not staring at sheryl's lack of a shirt, if that helps. ]

The bathhouse entrance isn't the best place to be looking for privacy, I'm afraid. I'm just one of the few people coming and going~

[ frowns ]

You sound really tired. You're going to catch even more of a cold if you stay out like this, you know.

[fairysong]

[Sheryl barely stirs when she's spoken to. She doesn't even open her eyes. That takes too much effort.] I'm very clearly down the hall from the entrance. It's far enough, I think. [Not really, but she's just being unreasonable now.]

Like hell I'd just stay in my room. I've had enough of sickbeds.

2

[extirpator]

[ the lack of clothing doesn't faze him much — in turn, he hasn't got much on beyond a towel around his hips. he shoot her a concerned raise of the brow, eyes affixed on her face as if he's scrutinizing something.

there's a silence before he speaks. ]

You're sick. I can fetch you cold water.

[ there's another beat. ]

How bad is your fever?

[fairysong]

[As the lack of shirt doesn't bother him, in turn, his lack of clothing doesn't bother her at all. If she's even noticed it; she barely tilts her head in his direction.] Aren't you the observant one. I'm not that sick. I'm just a little warm, that's all.

[She's normally a better liar than this.]

Where're you going to get cold water from? All these baths might as well be boiling. [She says, just sounding exhausted.]

week 2

[apocryphas]

[ Not a lot of things can scandalize the knight of treachery, and the sight of a half-naked woman isn't something she normally concerns herself with. But to be accused of invading her privacy is a whole other matter. Who the hell does she look like? That Lancelot bastard?! This is bullshit! ]

W-W-What the hell are you doing?! You're the one walking around with melons sticking out!! Melons!!!

[fairysong]

[Sheryl just turns and looks at the girl who'd approached her.

Geez, Mordred, it's not like she's one of the pirates.] Don't get angry at me just because you're jealous.

[She's too tired for this shit.]